


Picnic at the Barrow Downs

by Redrose999



Series: Barrow Down's series [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Feels, Brotherhood, Family, Feels, Gen, Kid Fic, crossover LOTR, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrose999/pseuds/Redrose999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili and Kili have a run in with the wights in the Barrow Downs. Number one in a series of stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Markets and Myths

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently searching for a Beta for my Hobbit fics, I'd be eternally grateful for any help, advice or editing. Even though I proof these stories, I miss tons of stuff. And grammar is a serious weakness.

“Uncle, are you sure we are ready?” asked the blond haired dwarf youth. His brow was furrowed with concern, yet his voice brimmed with controlled excitement.

“Of course he’s sure, brother. “Uncle Thorin never makes mistakes so he must be certain. You’re twenty and I’m fifteen, well old enough to set snares and spend the week on our own!” Unlike his older brother, Kili’s young voice was filled with enthusiasm. How long had they waited for this? For him, five years of training and for his brother a good ten, they were no longer helpless children and more than ready to take on the world. Kili looked hopefully at his brother; they both needed to confront their uncle together and be confident, or he’d likely change his mind. 

Around them were the sounds of dwarves moving about scattered tents, and temporary forges whispered and clanged. They were camped outside of Bree for the spring and were preparing their ware for the market. After Smaug, a great dragon, took their home, the Dwarves of Erebor were migratory, often setting up camps outside of towns and cities so they could attend the markets. 

Most of the tents were of study Dwarf construction, made of tan canvas and handmade poles. Forges and living quarters were set up for each family, or smith, so they had a place to work and rest after a long day at the market.

They were camped in a clearing near the road, with trees and shale stone hills. Most of the land was farmland, so the dwarves stayed far away from it; they liked their seclusion, and minded their own business unless it came to the sale of wares and the occasional ruffian who wandered into camp to cause trouble.

A spring breeze rustled the tall grass, and Kili noticed, scattered across the grassy glade, many small purple flowers bloomed. Even the trees blossomed with white, green and pink buds. Little red, blue and black birds flitted about the branches. The world was coming back to life after its long cold winters sleep. 

Uncle Thorin folded his arms, his brow furrowed. He was not a large dwarf, though he was still very imposing and strict. He had a full head of long dark hair, braided on the sides and a short cropped beard. He was dressed in dark black pants and a simple blue tunic, worn from hard work and time in the forge. For the most part, outside of his stocky short frame, Uncle Thorin didn’t look like most dwarves; he was slimmer, with regal hawklike features that made him appear stern, even haughty at times. All in all, if mad, a very terrifying figure of a dwarf to two young adolescent dwarflings like Kili and Fili. “Fili, do you feel you are not ready?”

The golden-haired dwarf glanced at his younger brother and then at his feet. He kicked a stone thoughtfully. 

Kili wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he looked worried. Which was bad because Uncle Thorin would change his mind if they had doubts. “It is just we have never been out on our own, and Kili is not yet sixteen. I am not sure if I can protect him.”

“Of course you can protect me.” Kili objected folding his arms with pride. “I have made my first bow, forged my arrows and have killed my first bear! Perhaps I will do the protecting, older brother!”

For a moment, Thorin’s features flickered with amusement. He rubbed his chin with his fingers. “Kili has proven to be well capable of protecting himself, indeed, it was a large bear.”

Uncle Thorin’s defense of him surprised Kili, for the man was often very critical of him. “Yes, a very large bear, and brother, you have hunted boar with Mister Dwalin and have slain many for our people to eat. You are a fine hunter and warrior.” Boar were very dangerous indeed and capable of swiftly killing a young unprepared dwarf. “And they were large boars, brother, and good to eat, so I have the utmost confidence in your ability to watch over me. “

The doubt slowly ebbed away from Fili’s gaze and he nodded. “There were many boar, and I was able to prevent Kili from being caught in the stampede.”“

Kili winced, and Thorin’s gaze turned to him critically once more. Why did his brother have to mention the stampeding boars? Was he really that worried? Certainly Kili had a habit of getting into mischief, but it wasn’t his fault; trouble liked to find him. “That is unfair, I thought I could get a better shot at them if I faced them,” he said awkwardly. 

“Headlong into trouble, nephew, you need to think more.” Thorin exhaled, and for a moment he seemed to reconsider his decision.

Lowering his head Kili innocently nudged the grass around with the tip of his boot. More than once he was accused of not thinking. But he couldn’t help it that he just had a little bad luck. Kili was certain Thorin would launch into one of his lectures about being mindful…

But to the young dwarf’s surprise his uncle turned to Fili and said. “You have always been capable of getting Kili, regardless of how thoughtless he can be, out of trouble, so I have no fears that you will continue to do so. And that perhaps Kili will make an effort to think if he take on some responsibility.”

Unable to repress his grin, Kili nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, Uncle, what I need is responsibility, and I will show you how capable I am…” Of course responsibility was what he needed. It gave him something to focus on, and setting snares was very important for their little band of smiths. Besides, some day he’d be strong enough to protect his brother when he became King of Erebor.

A smile twitched at Fili’s lips. “Very well, I have no more doubts uncle. Both Kili and I are up for the task.” The confidence Kili remembered about his brother glinted in the older boy’s blue eyes. Fili looped his fingers in his brown belt. “Just tell us when and we’ll be at your service!”

*&*&

The streets in the Town of Bree were narrow winding dirt paths with adjacent alleyways filled with garbage and clutter. The scent of animal waste, from trampled horse and cattle dung, filled the air. Despite this, people of many races milled about from building to building, for Bree was a center of business and a waystation for weary travelers looking for rest and food.

Many of the businesses catered to all travelers. Men, Dwarves, elves and hobbits alike could find their needs tended to in inns to clothing shops. Bree was far from a center of culture like Gondor, for there were no kings in Bree, just merchants, tradesmen and farmers peddling their merchandise in hopes for copper, silver or gold. Still, it was a very important place to Dwarves because they did good business.

To a young dwarf like Fili, the dull brown wood buildings and the dung covered streets of Bree were a welcoming place. There were no suspicious looks, or questions concerning his dwarvish nature. Dwarves were a familiar accepted sight in Bree, even in the inns and markets. 

The Markets themselves were pleasant loud gatherings of booths with colorful tarps and flags filled with toys and tasty sweet treats that any child could want. They even had a puppet show put on by a hobbit from Buckland, who was a masterful story-teller. 

But he wasn’t a young child anymore, Fili had to remind himself of that. He was twenty now, though in human years, it was little more than fifteen or so, he was considered capable of pulling his own and help out with adult responsibilities and chores, Though he wasn’t old enough to fight in war, he would have to wait until his 80s for that.

A young human girl and boy ran by them, giggling merrily as they waved two painted carved dragons. Fili couldn’t help but watch and wonder where they had bought them. The workmanship looked familiar, perhaps Bifur the toymaker was in town that day, and that meant that Kili would insist on visiting and beg for a toy. 

Fili couldn’t help but notice Kili looking after the kids and nudged him with his elbow. “Ma says there is no money to buy toys today, do you understand?”

Their tribe often lived day to day, and worked hard for money. Even though Fili and Kili were princes or Erebor in exile, they hadn’t the fine things princes would have because like everyone else, any money they got went to buying supplies for forges, food or necessities for day to day life. Even their clothing were hand-me-downs or made by their mother with inexpensive cloth found in bargains at markets. Fili took better care of his things of course. His green traveling cloak, tan tunic and brown pants were clean and had almost no patches from holes. Even his boots were cleaned and buffed.

Kili was another story. He was an active child, and made a habit of destroying whatever clothes he wore. His blue travel cloak was torn, in need of mending, which Ma did almost every day, and his green tunic had brown patches on the elbows. His pants were dark and were often covered in grass stains or soil which Ma could almost never clean completely out regardless of how much she scrubbed. He also had patches on his knees because the boy wore them out faster than he could grow out of them. 

Clothes and mending them aside, Kili often had no idea of how expensive he really was. 

At the human equivalent of twelve, Kili pouted. “Mister Dwalin never buys toys anyway. Why can’t we be with Mister Balin, he always goes soft for the big eye trick.”

Mister Dwalin was the tall, sturdy, older, muscular, dwarf with a raven black Mohawk, a beard and a angry face, escorting them though the market. He dressed in furs and leather and was menacing with all sorts of weapons hanging over his body. In the past, Fili had debated if the dwarf was scarier than Uncle Thorin, but after careful consideration, decided that Dwalin had a soft spot for them because he played with them when they did well after morning sparring. 

“I heard that, laddie, focus on what we are here for, no toys, pastries or puppet show. We’re here for camping supplies,” Dwalin’s gruff voice reminded them.

Fili nodded in understanding. Today’s market trip wouldn’t be any fun, thought Fili as they passed by a stand were there was custard- filled pastries on display. His stomach grumbled but not as loudly as Kili’s.

“I’m hungry,” Kili said predictably while he stared at the passing pastries. He jogged up to Dwalin’s side. “Can we have a custard bun? Please…. You can get one too…. I know you love ma’s!”

“No.” One gruff word sent Kili back to his brother’s side behind Mister Dwalin. 

“It was worth the try.” Fili told his brother. “And very clever to remind him of his stomach. He does like them, but Ma probably bribed him with an entire batch if he gets all the supplies and us out of the market before lunch.” 

Kili’s gaze followed another group of children running by, they were about twelve, and taller larger than both of them. The boy huffed and folded his arms. “We can’t even play today.”

“They’ll just tell you to play with the toddlers again.” Fili reminded him. “And then you will get mad and start another fight, Kili.”

“Maybe this time it will be different. They know I’m a dwarf now. Once they get to know me, they don’t mistake me for a human.” 

It was unfortunate for Kili, who had no beard, and was slender as a whip for dwarf standards, and was often mistaken for a human child. Fili felt sorry for his brother, and hoped it wouldn’t continue, he couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of it happening when Kili was Dwalin’s age. Fili often admired his brother though; the boy sported the long dark hair like their deceased grandfather and very much took after their Durin ancestors, well save for the slender facial features and lack of beard, but that could change in time. Fili already had his facial fuzz, faint as it was and he was just twenty.

“So what kind of supplies will we need?” Fili asked, aware Dwalin expected them to treat the trip to the market as one of his lessons.

“Rope, dried and salted meat, bread, some cheese, sleeping rolls…”

“Meat pies?” Kili ventured as he craned his neck to see another vendor putting out some mutton pies with potatoes. “They keep pretty well.” 

“Meat pies are not for camping out in the field.” Dwalin said with a hint of regret in his voice. “And stop trying to tempt me, lad, your mother will have our hides if I spoil your lunches.”

Fili jumped in. “Pardon me, Mister Dwalin, but it is a bit distracting to be in the market, and you know how difficult it is for Kili to pay attention and not think of his stomach, he is a child after all…”

“But I can pay attention perfectly well with this… It’s our first real grownup task brother, I’m all ready to focus.” The dark-haired dwarf wrinkled his smooth brow and gave Fili a glare. “I’m not a baby anymore.” He signed in iglishmêk.

“Aye, it is distracting though.” Dwalin admitted, ignoring Kili’s defense. “Can’t say I blame you. All the pies have my belly grumbling….”

“But mother will have our hides,” Fili reminded. “And it would be unfair if you bought some and we couldn’t have any.”

“We could always not tell mother and eat all our lunch.” Kili ventured. “Than she’d never know.”

For a moment, Fili considered that Kili was on to something, but it was short-lived when Mister Dwalin grunted. “And that would be lying by omission. “

Kili puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. “Guess so… Just that I’m still starved and keep being tempted by all the cakes I am now seeing…“

To say his younger brother was persistent was an understatement. Fili covered his face with a hand and sighed into his fingers; ahead of him, Mister Dwalin grunted. “You’re gett’n nothing, so deal.”

With that, Mister Dwalin, continued his trek though the market, to various booths in search of flint and tinder boxes as well as other snare-building and camping supplies.

It was going to be a long, boring, and miserable morning. 

*****  
“So, you’re tell’n me you’ll be out on yer own for the first time on a hunting trip lads?” said Mister Bofur as he sat in front of his cousin’s toy booth looking down at the two dwarf children.

It was a colorful booth painted red and blue with a matching tarp over the roof. Displays on the stands were tucked under the tarp, with an opening so children could enter and handle the toys. Displayed were a variety of toys, some were lions, knights, horses, and dwarven warriors, and other wonders of the forest but most were monstrous frightening things like Orcs, olifants, dragons and trolls. 

Sitting on a stool at a workbench sat a grizzled black-haired dwarf with a whittling knife and wood in hand and the head of an axe imbedded in his head: which you never ever asked about because it was rude. He was frightening to look at, but Fili never really cared. Bifur made the best toys.

Bofur, Bifer’s cousin, sat at the entrance of the booth. He was a miner by trade, but often helped his cousin run the toy booth because of his affable nature and Bifer’s lack of a verbal vocabulary. 

With a pipe in hand Bofur puffed away at a sweet-scented tobacco. Unlike his cousin, Bofur was a talkative fellow and sometimes told stories to children in the market. He always wore a smile, and wore a funny fur-lined hat with earflaps that stood stiffly up on end. His long brown hair was braided into two pigtails in the front, a third braid in the back and his cheeks were pink and always full with a wide grin. 

Mister Dwalin asked Bofur to watch over the brothers while he went to the pub to fetch what he said was some provisions for the camp. Fili was certain it was a barrel of ale. They were still brewing their own since they ran out a week ago, and grownup dwarves drank a lot of ale so it was best not to wait or go without until it was done. All the best songs came from ale according to Mister Dwalin and Mister Balin. It loosened dwarves’ tongues and opened them to the heart of Mahal. 

“For the week” added Kili, as the raven-haired dwarf sat on a barrel beside the toy booth and played with a carved warg. Bofur’s cousin Bifer created some of the best toys; monstrous as they were, both Fili and Kili loved to pay with them. “And we have to make our own snares and traps with branches and twine, I’m the best at that because I have tiny skinny fingers.”

He made good traps too, but instead of boasting, Fili studied the toys, and tried to tell himself how he was too old for such things but couldn’t help but study one of the treelike men sitting near a dragon. It was an ent with willowlike branches and a carved face formed by carefully whittled bark. Fili had always wanted an Ent to play war with, but they just hadn’t enough money to spend on toys in the past. Instead Uncle Thorin provided them with wooden swords to learn to use for future battles. “I get to bring my sword too,” Fili said absently. “Kili is too young yet to use a real one.”

“But I am bringing my bow, maybe we can bring home a deer, that would feed the camp for a few nights. Or better yet, a bear.” 

“We are to bring home rabbits, weasels, and quail, no bears Kili, we would need a grownup to hunt bear,” Fili reminded his younger brother. 

“Aye, there is no need to impress me, lad,” Bofur added. “I’ve known you since you’ve been a wee little one, and you’ll always be the imp who locked the goats in Mrs. Orchard’s fruit stall.” 

“But it was hungry and I was very young,” Kili explained. “I wouldn’t do it again.”

“I would imagine not after the beating your father gave you,” Bofur replied. “Couldn’t sit for a week, I remember, and you had to clean out the goat stalls for Mrs. Orchard too.”

Fili repressed a laugh at Kili’s perplexed expression. “Kili? No, he’s a perfect little dwarfling, never gets into any trouble I say…”

“ You helped brother,” Kili replied. 

“But it was your idea.” Granted, they both did think the animal was hungry, but it was a small goat and neither thought it would decimate the fruit stand the way it did. Despite the pain of the lashing, thinking about it in hindsight amused Fili. Though it appeared Kili disagreed. Fili blamed it on age, these things got funnier as you grew up and looked back on how foolhardy you were as a child. 

“Now, since neither of your have gotten into any trouble, how about I tell you a story while you are waiting?” 

Behind the work bench Bifur looked up and grunted. He signed to his brother with hand and arm gestures in iglishmêk, and Fili only caught part of it. Bifur requested a story he thought appropriate for the boys.

Bofur grinned at that and leaned over the counter. “Bifur wants me to tell you the story about the forging of Nauglamír and the great war between dwarves and the elves.”

Fili had a feeling there was a moral to this one, Bofur never told stories without them and sometimes his stories were as twisted as Bifer’s toys, but always fun nonetheless.

“Once upon a time there was a most beautiful jewel that captured the light of the stars and was forged by the greatest elven artisan that ever lived, not to be compared to any Dwarvish artisans who, by the very nature of being dwarves make greater crafts by nature. Now this jewel being so beautiful caused all sorts of strife for the elves. For anyone who saw it wanted it, or would go great lengths to keep it.”

Bofur drew a breath and met the gazes of the two boys. Fili just nodded, what sort of jewel caused so much trouble? It almost reminded him of the stories Uncle Thorin told him about the Arkenstone, the great treasure of his great-great-grandfather Thror. Eager, the boy moved closer to the miner to hear what was next. “Now, over the years, this jewel was stolen by the Evil One himself, and obtained with great cost by a man and his bride-to-be, daughter of the great elven lord Thingol.”

“You mean the Fallen One?” Kili asked in awe. “This is an old tale indeed. We’ve not heard tales of elves and their dealings with the Dark Lord. Uncle Thorin says there is nothing good of elves.“

“Aye, your uncle don’t trust elves, but the truth is, not all of them are bad, and most of them fought against evil in those early days. I’m not saying your uncle is wrong to distrust them, they all suffer from the same pride and greed that ails us, but like there are petty and evil dwarves there are good and fair elves like the daughter of Thingol, but this story is about the Dwarves and their dealings with Thingol, and how blind greed can lead anyone astray.” Bofur confirmed but hesitated. His attention drifted to the streets beyond.

Frowning, Fili followed his gaze and recognized Dwalin lumbering though the crowed market carrying a large sack over his shoulder and a barrel under his arm. “I trust they’ve been behaving themselves?” he asked when he arrived.

“Aye, like wee little angels they’ve been. Though it might be difficult to part Kili with that there warg.” Bofur gestured to the toy.

“Mister Bofur was telling us a story,” Kili added. “And yes, I can part with it, Ma said we had no copper or silver and won’t until we get to market and sell some crafts.” He carefully placed the warg on display next to the other creatures and jumped to his feet.

This downright puzzled Fili, because Kili often asked at least twice when he wanted something and Fili knew he wanted the warg because Fili wanted the Ent and they were still young and liked toys. 

Dwalin lowered the sack and reached down to scruff Kili’s hair. “Good boy, I suppose it will do no harm to stay till the end of the story, would it?”

A grin split Kili’s young face. “Hear that, Fili? We can hear the rest of the story because we’re behaving.”

Hearing a story was better than nothing, and this one was about elves too, Fili thought. Was it possible Kili was being clever in that way? He knew there would be no toys, but staying long enough to hear a story would make their trip to the market worthwhile. Fili could not argue with the logic. 

Mister Bofur appeared delighted. “Well, then, where were we?”

“The elven king.” Both boys said in unison and waited eagerly for the rest of the story to begin.


	2. The Barrow Downs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili are dropped off on the outskirts of the Barrow Downs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. This chapter was difficult to write, I needed to write character and research how to set snares. Fili and Kili are well aware of how to do these things, but I don't! 
> 
> I liked the idea of the dwarves traveling in tribes, one Jackson used in the movie, they're nomadic for a while. I know Tolkien had them settling in the Blue Mountains, in Throin's Halls, but I decided to have them work off the land a while, smithing for other races and doing markets, in poverty before having the resources to settle. I broke from a great deal of the book cannon as well to build characters. Fili and Kili know what it is like to be dirt poor, and work. I shifted timelines too. I'm so bad. :P

The next morning was bright and warm. The sun burned above in a blue cloudless sky, shedding its morning rays across the blossoming fields of the slowly awakening Dwaven campsite. 

After a quick breakfast, and a hug and kiss from mother and a clap on the back from Uncle Thorin, the two dwarflings were off, trudging behind Mister Dwalin. On their backs were two light packs filled with supplies for their little adventure. Kili sported a quiver and arrows with his bow slung over his shoulder, while Fili had a sword sheathed at his hip. 

“All you need to do is last the week,” Mister Dwalin said. “When we arrive at the intersection, you two can set to making snares, but dinna wander into the Barrow Downs if ye wants to live another day. It’s dangerous there, so keep near the road for your camp. By end of the week you have yourselves some nice fat conies for supper.”

Listening, Kili nodded. He was so excited he could barely keep his voice controlled like a proper dwarf warrior. “Then we can be scouts, right? When this is all done? You’ll let us do scouting for the tribe?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, lad, you still got a lot to learn.”

“Isn’t the Barrow Downs haunted?” Fili asked. “I remember Balin telling me about it. It used to be a great kingdom of men, until it fell and now evil spirits live there.”

“If you stick near the road. There is a nice big warren filled with fat rabbits where we’re going. So you’ll have plenty of game, and use your common sense, you’ll be fine,” Dwalin reassured. “Besides you won’t be near the downs, just camping in the glad near the road.”

If the farmers around Bree were more accepting to dwarves they would have been camping in the woods near Breeland, but some men didn’t trust dwarves. Kili didn’t blame them; for the most part, dwarves stuck with dwarves and rarely mingled with the other races. In fact, they only time they did was when they went to markets like the one in Bree. “We’re not afraid of ghosts, are we, Fili.” 

Fili appeared nervous and he kicked a stone as they walked down the dirt road. 

“A wise warrior is afraid of spirits, lad,” Dwalin replied gruffly. Kili couldn’t tell if he heard fear or concern in the old warriors voice. “Don’t get full of yourself and do as I say. There is a nice rocky outcropping near the road, good hard stone, it will be a good place to camp.”

“Yes, sir.” Fili and Kili responded together. It happened a great deal, the two of them often completed the other’s sentences. When they spared they were so in tune with each other that they could read each other’s moves and respond accordingly. Kili liked it because it helped them to work together well and he expected it would be a great asset when they eventually returned to Erebor to fight the dragon with Uncle Thorin. It also helped to persuade his reluctant brother into doing things that were fun.

As the sun climbed, the three dwarves walked down the dirt and stone road. It was a straight flat path with the occasional dip or hole in the center of the road. Fields and hilly glades surrounded them, and Kili made out an abundance of small spring flowers blooming. Snow drops, daffodils, crocuses scattered patches of white, yellow and purple about seas of green and wheat. Ma taught him a lot about flowers, she was fascinated by them because growing up in the city of Erebor she seldom left the safety of the caves. She often called them the jewels of the fields, and collected them to braid in her hair, and occasionally, when they were really small, Kili’s and Fili’s. But they were too old for flowers, unless they were the ones that helped with medicine and teas. 

“Maybe when we are done, we can pick flowers for Ma.” 

“We will no have time, Kili,” Fili replied. “A week of snares, cleaning and salting meat, we’ll forget. Unless it is in the morning of our last day, and then we need to check the snares and see what we have found.” 

“But it will only take a second.” The younger dwarf did not understand why it would be so difficult to pick a few daffodils. “And when Mister Dwalin comes to find us, we can have him give them to her….”

There was a grunt ahead of them and Mister Dwalin came to a sudden halt. The gruff dwarf swallowed and kept his gaze on the road ahead. 

“So you are in agreement?” Fili asked trotting up to the warrior’s side. “Because if you are, I think Ma would like a gift from all of us.”

It was strange how Mister Dwalin behaved when their mother was mentioned. He often sputtered out things and his face would redden. Already he was pulling at his dark beard, and studying the ground. “She likes it when you think of her,” was all he could muster and started to walk once more.

When he was further up the road, Kili sped up his pace so he was walking in step with his brother. “I think it is working, brother. He is certainly blushing, and he does make Ma smile.”

“Smiling does not mean she will have him…” Fili replied simply. “But I think a proud warrior like Mister Dwalin is worthy of our mother still. Though I am starting to fear he is too proper to consider courting a widow of a friend.”

Kili’s father had died when he was small and it had been more than eight years since his Da passed on in the battle at Moria’s Gates. After Uncle Thorin took responsibility for their family and their mother stopped smiling like she used to.

“Brother, these things take a great deal of time,” Kili informed. “I know very little of the affairs of the heart, but I know they are prickly and often take time to flourish. At least it is what mother says to Balin when they discuss Uncle and his failure to take a proper wife.” 

“You are not supposed to be listening to those discussions, for they are behind closed doors, little brother.” Fili elbowed his younger sibling.

“I can not help but hear things, brother….”

“Because you hold a glass to the door.” 

“As do you,” Kili reminded. 

His brother exhaled and laughed. “You win that one, but I too worry for our kin and have come to the conclusion that meddling in their affairs, or paying mind to them does nothing but cause trouble.” He strayed a glance to Dwalin. “But it would be nice to see her smile the way she did when father held her in his arms.”

It was something they both could agree on. 

*@*@

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the intersection, and after a brief instruction of keeping away from anyone they didn’t know on the road, Dwalin left them to their own devices. It was only then Kili really felt he was being trusted to do something very important. 

The land before them rolled out in rocky hills, with long scrubby grass, skinny trees and brush. Distantly stone formations stood on hills like silent sentries over looking the scattered landscape.

Small mound were scattered in the lower laying land, and Kili recognized several of them had holes hidden away beneath the tall grass. They had come for the conies, and as far as Kili could tell there were many of them for the picking, it was just tricking them into their traps.

Determined to prove himself, the young Dwarf set to looking for sturdy sticks, bent, Y-shaped or straight depending on the snare, any of which were useful, and branches to whittle into triggering mechanisms for traps. They had already gathered enough rope to form loops to close around the animal.

“I’ll whittle and you can make the knots,” Fili said as he walked around the field in search of sticks.

“Okay, you know, not seeing many sticks here,” Kili observed. “Might have to go further to get some by the trees up the hills there.” He pointed to the scrubland ahead of them. “As long as we keep the road in sight we should be safe.”

Fili nodded. “Okay, but we need to stay way from the hills with the big tall rocks. This way, we won’t go near the Barrow Downs.” 

Straightening himself as tall as he could Kili glared at his brother. “I’m a dwarf warrior, I’m not scared of ghost stories. Grownups always use them to get us to do as they want.”

Fili shrugged. “Well, I’m a warrior too, or will be…”

“So ghost stories shouldn’t scare you either.” It was a logical thought, after all, what could a ghost do? They scared you, just like in the stories his mother told when he was bad or ran off to play after dark. “I’d be more worried about Orcs and stuff, they’ll really eat you.”

“But Orcs rarely come this far from the mountains.” Fili bent over and picked up a good sized stick. 

“So we’ll be safe. Mister Dwalin just wants us to not to get lost that is all. “ As they walked, Kili found several nice sticks, one of them with a Y shape, perfect for making a rolling snare. He smiled and waved it to Fili. “If we find a few more of these, we might not need to do as much whittling!”

The other boy smiled and nodded, he looked worried, but Kili knew he was thinking about ghosts and Mister Dwalin. “Kili, I have to keep you safe, so we have to be careful. It’s my hide that will get beaten if you get hurt.”

“You always keep me safe, Fili, so I’m not worried at all.” Kili hoped his words were reassuring enough to his brother, but wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to get hurt because the idea of Fili getting a beating for it upset him. If he got hurt, it wouldn’t be Fili’s fault, Fili always looked out for him, he was just hard to keep up with. “And besides, if I get hurt, I’ll tell them it is my fault, so Uncle Thorin will have to punish me. If I get into trouble, you’re the one who saves me, so you should be praised for it…”

It never really worked out that way. Fili was going to be the King someday. Uncle Thorin and their mother wanted him to learn responsibility. Looking out for Kili was a part of it. 

Kili stopped walking near a small group of saplings. The tree also had some good sturdy branches that were flexible. It would be a good place to set some rolling snares. When they had enough sticks they could start there.

Approaching the tree, Fili stooped to pick up more sticks before coming to a stop at Kili’s side. “Kili,” he started, blue eyes meeting with Kili’s. “Thanks for believing in me. I know if I get into trouble, you’ll be there too.” He touched his brother’s shoulder with a hand and gave it a pat. “We should get the rest of these sticks so we can finish the snares before sunset. It will be very hard to see where we are going if it gets dark. “

It wouldn’t be dark for some time, but Fili was right, making and setting the snares would take most of the day, and they needed to finish collecting sticks so they could start.

*&*&*

Kili wasn’t sure how long they gathered sticks, but by the time they finished setting all their snares, they were well away from the road, and in the middle of a grassy knoll between rocky mounds. The sun was already going down and Kili’s belly grumbled. 

Loudly. Exhausted, the young dwarf sat down on the grassy earth, and slowly wiggling out of his backpack. Across from him, Fili stood, surveying the hills around them. 

The sky was cloudy and the air was moist from a soft spray of rain. A thick fog rolled in from the stone covered hills near the barrows. The temperature started to drop.

“We won’t go near the Downs, don’t worry.” Fili glanced to Kili reassuringly. “Don’t you remember all those lessons about the wars there?”

“Think I slept,” Kili admitted. Sometimes staying awake during a history lesson was difficult, and Kili found ways of nodding off without Mister Balin noticing. In hindsight, he felt ashamed about it. If he had listened more, maybe he’d understand the stone structures they saw. They looked like old broken bits of buildings. He remembered ruins in the Blue Mountains. His mother told him it was once a great Dwarven Kingdom but it was just rubble now. “We’ll be ok here, I know it’s not where Mister Dwalin told us to camp, but we pretty far from those ruins.”

Nodding, Fili dropped down beside him, is gaze on the hills around them. “It will be really dark before we get back, and I don’t want to get lost.” He admitted. “But if we build a fire and shelter here, we’ll be able to stay warm, and the hills will give us cover from strangers.” The older boy shivered and rubbed his arms. “I just hope it doesn’t rain harder, I’ll really miss that camping spot then. Even with a shelter here, we’re gonna get wet.”

Stretching, Kili thought about the knoll. They had plenty of spare branches to build a quick shelter, but Fili was right. Sitting between the hills would make the water pool up over the shale. The clay earth was too hard to absorb the water quickly. “We’ll have to camp higher then, But if we are on a hill we might be seen from the road.”

Fili rubbed his slight golden whiskers on his chin. “Well, we could camp with in one of the hills, I remember seeing a stone overhang on one. I know we’ll be closer to the ruins, but we’ll stay dry.”

It was easier than building a shelter. Kili stood up and pulled his pack back up on his back and gathered his wood. “We’ll have more wood for fire then.”

“And be slightly off the ground so the water won’t soak our camp and gear.” Fili picked up his pack too, and started up the hill.

Larger droplets of rain kissed his cheeks as Kili followed. He was looking forward to a warm fire, and some dried meat. He was famished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down. I actually have the story finished. But I'm open to suggestions. It's the backbone to the other errr four stories after? Heaven's when the bunny strikes, I go hog wild.


	3. Terror in the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys settle down for the night, but things don't go as planned.

After some time of wandering in a thick fog and dark they found what Fili thought was the right spot. It was pouring by the time they had their fire and camp set up in a rectangular shale crevasse with a nice piled slate stone over hang that covered a smooth floor. The side and back walls were mossy and over grown with weeds. Enough of the camp was safe from rain so the boys felt confident they’d stay dry for the evening. 

Already, the heavy fog crept in over the ground and was only held at bay at the mouth of their little cave by the warm crackling fire. 

It was chilly and the rain rapped endlessly against the grassy earth. It made a pleasant pitter-patter on the roof of the overhang. Kili edged closer to the fire, and held out his hands in an attempt to warm himself. Across from him, Fili wrapped himself in a thick wool blanket and leaned his back against the stone wall behind him. “I wonder what mom is doing,” Kili asked.

Fili shrugged as he chewed on some beef jerky. “Worrying about us, probably. Don’t think they expected this weather, it was really warm and sunny today.”

“I wonder if it will make it harder to catch rabbits in our traps? We might need to wait another day.” Kili broke off a piece of bread and chewed it. They were just about finished with a meal of cheese, beef jerky, dried fruit and bread. What wasn’t in their bellies was packed away for morning. “Bread is good.”

“We’re starved, anything tastes good.” Fili observed. He looked out of the cave and drew his knees closer. “All that fog could be used for cover by an attacker or a predator.”

Kili shrugged, he studied the fog and felt a surge of anxiety. It seemed to drift and boil as the rain splashed the puddles beneath it. “If we keep watching, we’ll be okay.” 

The idea of sleeping made Kili uneasy all the sudden. It was almost as if the fog was alive. “So do you remember what Mister Balin said about the Barrow Downs? Are those ruins of a great city like the ones in Nogrod, and Belegost? They’re so old that there is nothing but funny-shaped stones instead of walls.”

“It used to be a kingdom of men a very long time ago.” Replied Fili. “They called it Cardolan. I think before that, it was a part of the kingdom of Arnor. But it fell after a great battle with evil powers.” 

The story didn’t make Kili feel any braver. He watched the fog disquieted. It was thicker and Kili thought he saw swirling shapes in it. He took a last bite of his bread and stared at the murk suspiciously. “Maybe people see ghosts because there is a lot of fog here?”

“Might be, but Mister Dwalin insisted the Downs were haunted.” Fili explained. “And ghosts are real.”

Kili had never seen a real ghost. He just knew the stories and didn’t want to think of them. In fact, he started to feel bad about all his boasting earlier that day. He quickly stowed the remains of his bread in his back. “We’re safe here.”

“With a wall against our back and a warm fire,” Fili agreed. He finished his jerky and stretched his legs. He sounded brave and Kili admired that. “Evil things don’t like fire.”

Fili’s words relieved Kili some. He turned from the fog, and took to looking into the fire. “But what would we do if something evil did come here? We need a plan.”

“ Just use the stick of fire to drive them away,” Fili explained after much silence. “And we need to keep the fire going until morning. We’re up away from the puddles, the rain isn’t coming in, and we collected a lot of sticks to keep it going for a good long time.” He tossed Kili a blanket from Kili’s pack up against the back of the cave. “Don’t get all scared on me, Kili, weren’t you the one boasting about how you were not afraid of ghosts?”

Fili would remind him of that. Kili puffed his cheeks out and exhaled. “And I’m still not. I just don’t want anything to creep out of the fog, like an Orc, we’ve never fought orcs before.”

“Sure.” A smirk crossed Fili’s face. “More like a wolf, or a bear. Better keep that bow of yours handy.”

Pouting, Kili picked up the blankets and unintentionally sprinkled breadcrumbs over it from his clothing. “Don’t rub it in. It’s pretty dark now, and it’s raining, this trip isn’t turning out the way I thought it would.” 

Even the blanket didn’t cut the chill. The younger dwarf scooted in closer to his brother’s side, and leaned into him for body heat. At least they were dryer now, he’d be miserable if he were still soaked. The more he thought of it, Kili was too tired to be miserable. He yawned. 

“Yeah, I’m cold too,” Fili informed. “We should share blankets, they are more than big enough for both of us and we’ll be warmer.”

It was a good idea, Fili and Kili often shared their mother’s bed for warmth at night. The camps could get very cold in winter and it wasn’t unusual for families to sleep together. 

The boys quickly shared blankets and lay close to each other for warmth. With the two blankets, fire and shared body warmth, Kili felt better. The fog outside was less scary too. “Who should take first watch?”

“I will,” Fili replied. “I’ll wake you when it is your turn.”

The younger brother nodded, and closed his eyes. Fili would protect him while he slept and if there was trouble, he’d wake up ready for a fight. Comfortable on the smooth ground, the dwarfling curled up on his side and his mind drifted to thoughts of snare building and delicious rabbit stew.

*&*&

Kili lay pale and curled near the fire. His hands gripped the blankets close as he muttered quietly in his restless sleep. Gently, Fili brushed the boy’s raven hair from his face and out of his mouth. Kili was never a very neat sleeper, and was always restless. 

Watching his younger brother was just an excuse to focus on something other than the fog. It was thicker now, like a grey veil hanging over the entranceway of the cave. It left a restless fear in his heart. Sometimes, it looked like a hand, groping its way along the edges of the cave. While other times, he thought he saw figures moving around just out of his field of vision. But that had to be nothing more than a boy’s sleep-fueled imagination. Still, Fili kept his hand on his sword and stared worriedly at the mists.

From his lessons, Fili recalled that fog was just a cloud on the ground. There was nothing supernatural about it, though in stories it was often the prelude to evil things. 

The dwarf drew in a breath. It didn’t seem to like the fire, so he tossed another stick on it and watched the yellow flames leap up and crackle warmly. Fire was pure, and Fili had learned to master its flames to forge swords and other wares valued by their people. There was nothing fire couldn’t purify in the forge. Yet, he wasn’t at the forge, and a part of Fili doubted even the fire would keep the oppressive white mists out of their cave if it dwindled.

It wouldn’t hurt to add another stick to the fire and when the sticks ran out, he’d add some weeds off the wall. He hadn’t said anything to Kili but he wasn’t sure if they had enough fuel until morning. 

For a moment, the tween Dwarf felt a surge of shame. Why was he bothered by a little mist? They saw fog all the time in the mountains, the moors and hills where they traveled. It wasn’t unusual for the lowlands of the shire at all. Yet something about this haze made him shiver like a terrified child. 

Fili laid his sword on his lap, determined to chase his fears away. He was to be king of his people someday, and he wasn’t about to disappoint his uncle. 

Soft murmurs drew his attention to Kili once more. The younger dwarf dropped an arm against Fili’s thigh as he rolled over so his head pressed up against Fili’s side. 

A smile spread Fili’s lips, Kili slept anyplace at any time. He admired Kili’s ability to be carefree and there were times he wished he could be as unburdened by the responsibilities of the throne too. 

A flicker of moment outside caught his gaze. Fili quickly snapped to attention, and stared deep into the fog. Was it a trick of the light? He couldn’t see much beyond the flickering of the campfire. With a grip on his sword, Fili leaned further and squinted at the mists.

The fog appeared thicker in areas, with thinner patches of gray and thicker patches of white. It was in the patches of gray that Fili saw something dark and ominous glide by.

The boy stiffened, back against the wall of the cave. “Kili?” His hand dropped on to the younger Dwarf’s shoulder and gave it a shake, while the other gripped the hilt of the sword. “Kili, wake up.”

When Kili failed to rouse, Fili started to worry. Even if he could sleep at a drop of a hat, Kili slept lightly, and easily woken. Instead he lay motionless and did not stir. 

Looking briefly at his face, Fili frowned. The teenaged dwarf was strangely still with a mask of fear creasing his lips and brow. 

Beyond the cave something stirred, and what looked like a thin skeletal hand with tight dried flesh groped into the little craves. Fili held in a gasp and his heart thumped into his throat. Instinctively he found his legs attempting to push him further away from the limb.

It reached out its long rot-blackened fingernails clawing air until they almost touched the fire, and then faded back into the mists.

Fili swallowed the lump in his throat, and slowly reached for a stick of firewood. “Kili! Wake up!” He was surprised by how shrill his voice sounded. 

Dread ebbed its way deeper into Fili’s heart as he realized the very little cave they sat in was unnaturally formed. Its floor was too flat, and when he brushed away at the weeds and moss he could see the chalk white stone and bricks of a barrow mound entrance.

They couldn’t see the road from where they were. There were on the furthest edge of the barrows.

Fili had led his younger brother into danger, because of the rain. 

Another streak of movement and this time a taut pale face with cold sunken silver-blue eyes appeared, leaning into the cave. Its shallow features were tight with ghostly pale skin and adorned with wild white hair and a crown of gold and gems. 

The rest of its body lurched in. It wore fine silken garments ragged and faded with time, and the plated armor dusty tarnished and worn from a tomb. The once noble king of forgotten days chilled the very soul of the frightened young dwarf. Seizing a thick stick from the fire, Fili jabbed it at the ghostly monster.

 

The thing shrank away from the fire and out of the cave, and Fili followed. The Barrow Wight was solid. A sword would work on it, he thought as he plunged after it.

But the monster was quick, and its own sword parried his bow and drove him back a few steps. 

Mists swirled about his legs and the wet splash of rain stung his face. Fili regained his footing and jabbed the fire out into the fiend’s face. It snarled and swung its sword into the stick close to his hand.

Fili gasped as his hand slid up against the edge of the sword and the stick cleaved in two, dropping onto the ground into a puddle. An icy cold numbness swept up his arm paralyzing it.

Only the light from the cave from behind him reflected against the mists around him, making them translucent and smoke-like. For a moment, Fili lost sight of the wight. 

Hefting his sword, the dwarf made a circle, peering into the fog. His horror grew with a sense of helplessness. How could he take on an undead monster? His one arm was useless and he had no real combat experience. 

And why hadn’t Kili awoken? Was it some sort of spell?

Fili trembled. It was hard to keep focused on the fog. It moved eerily fading from thick to swirling smoke against ebony night. To make matters worse, the little fire in the cave only allowed him to see less than three feet from his nose. 

Something soundlessly moved at the very edge of his vision, Fili spun around ready to swing and froze. 

Cold silver eyes burned in the luminous haze. The boy’s fear grew, and he felt his fingers loosen on the sword.

It was singing, a low ghostly mournful voice that seemed to ebb the will from Fili’s heart. The fog, the rain, even Kili seemed to vanish in the dreary hopelessness of the song.

Cold be hand and heart and bone,  
and cold be sleep under stone:  
nevermore to wake on stony bed,  
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.  
In the black wind the stars shall die,  
and still on gold here let them lie,  
till the dark lord lifts his hand  
over dead sea and withered land. *

It came closer, its unholy gaze swallowing his. The sword fell from Fili’s hand. Terror gave way to grim loss, he couldn’t fight, he couldn’t save Kili, he just wanted to sleep, and let his mind drift along the words chanted by the being before him.

The Barrow Wight closed in its frozen hand encirling about his. Suddenly his entire body went cold and numb like his arm, and Fili pitched forward. Blackness engulfed him before he hit the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger. Won't be posting the next bit until Monday. My life has suddenly got complicated.


	4. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili tries to save his brother form a fate worse than death.

A haunted moon peered down as its pales rays touched the rolling hills of Cardolan. The sky was dark with a field of cold silver stars stretched out as far as the eye could see. 

Entranced, Kili stood on the hillside, gaze averted up, focused on the stars and moon. They were cold with the weight of age, like the stone in an unexplored or an ancient dwarven tomb deep in the mountains.

The young dwarf shivered. He felt an icy chill climb up his limbs as he looked around himself. A great army stretched before him. Men dressed in fine robes clad in silver mail or plate with masked helms and shields straddled stamping horses. Ranks of footmen with drawn swords stood before them.

Around them were the walls of a once mighty city of majestic white marble towers crumbled into ruins, leaving only small rocky formations sitting on the barrows and waiting tombs. 

Yet they stood there for an eternity, their golden and violet flags waving in the dying wind. Waiting for death and the hard stone beds of their graves.

One figure stood out above all, he was the moon, also a man clad in kingly attire at the same time. He seemingly rode down from the sky on a horse made of mist, golden-ringed fingers extended out toward him. His face was handsome, ringed by thick golden hair, and crowned by a golden jeweled circlet that sparkled in the star light. His royal silken blue robes were trimmed with silver and golden embroidery and on his chest was elegantly engraved tree on gold plated armor and a sun high above it.

Kili found himself unable to move as the man rode up to him, his horse dissipating into mists that curled around the young Dwarf’s legs. 

“Come.” A whisper of a voice beckoned him. “Sleep with us, young prince.” The ringed fingers drifted to his hair, sending frosty tingles down his spine.

Fear filled him, but Kili could not move, he could only watch as the being before him seemed to change. Its features became taunt and sunken, his eyes hollow sockets with an eerie moon glow that breathed helplessness and despair into the dwarf prince’s heart. 

Robes became rags, and gold-tarnished, a ghostly hand traced down to his check, and Kili could see bones beneath the withered pale skin. This was no king, and it sang, it sang of death and decay, it sang of loss and of tombs. 

The face came close to his and he could see yellowed skeletal teeth leering at him….

Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,  
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,

Yet something warm and sweet drew him away. Another song, filled with the golden rays of the sun on a pleasant spring day. The darkness around him shattered. 

Kili’s eyes flew open. A mummified face frozen in death stared sightless eyes at him while its ring-clad fingers placed a crown of gold on his head. 

The dwarf stifled a scream, as he found strength to roll away and find his feet. He trembled and it was difficult to stand, his limbs were stiff, and numb with cold. Around him were the stone walls and wooden beams of a tomb and a sickeningly green light that ebbed and wavered around him.

He was clad in a shroud of rags that stank of entropy and time with golden chains around his neck and jeweled belt about his waist. They were heavy, and he felt weak, and slow and will power alone keep him standing. 

Fili lay ashen on the floor dressed identically, a crown and jewels woven into his mane of blond hair. A sword was placed at his side, and a shield of gold at his feet. For a moment, Kili feared that he was dead, but the slight rise and fall of the older dwarf’s chest relieved him.

It only then occurred to him what had happened. Somehow in the dark and rain they settled in a hill that was really a burial mound. Now they were trapped with a barrow wight, who wanted to sacrifice them. 

The barrow wight snarled, and lurched at Kili. The youth stood rooted where he stood until the last moment, when fear gave into his drive to survive. He darted out of its grasp and tumbled head first under its arm, to Fili’s side and the sword laying there. “Fili, Fili! By Mahal, wake up! I need you at my side with sword in hand to smite this monster!”

The Barrow Wight leaped at him again, ghostly hands seizing the blade as Kili swung at it. Its strength nearly wrenched the weapon out of the dwarf’s hand, and Kili stumbled.

 

“Come little one, lie down in thy bed of stone,  
what is a prince without a throne?   
The stars will flicker and burn away,  
Mountains, stone, trees, life, all will decay.  
Bones, heart, flesh put in the ground,  
Till the Dark Lord returns to restore the uncrowned!”

The words diminished his will, and Kili found his strength waning. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs and the boy sank to his knees. Disheartened, he lowered the sword tip so it touched the ground, and hung his head low. The weapon clattered to the floor. How could he think to fight such a thing, it had magic. Its dark words and spell drained him of his spirit, and left him hollow and melancholy. 

In the distance, he became aware of the mournful cries and wails of pained spirits emanating from the green light churning around his trembling body.

To his horror he realized they were lost souls belonging to unfortunate visitors trapped by the Wights in the Barrows. Grief stricken, he could no longer move, and longed not to run or escape but to obediently lie back into death’s eternal sleep.  
Before the Barrow Wight closed in, a bright voice started to sing, driving away the moans and frozen hopelessness clouding Kili’s mind. 

Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,  
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,  
Wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,  
Reads by the shady pool, lilies on the water:

The fear melted away, with the despair, and the dwarf felt new vigor. Across from him, Fili’s eyes flickered sleepily open. Hope filled Kili, and he remembered Fili was to be king some day, and Kili would be responsible for his safety. No monster or ghost would kill them that day. 

The youngest dwarf just ducked under the Wight’s grasp, and scrambled to his brother. “Fili, Fili, we have to get out of here now! It’s going to kill us or worse!”

Fili’s blue eyes strayed up to him, confused. “Kili?”

“NOW, Fee, run!” And without thinking, Kili grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him to his feet. The other youth was ungainly and stumbled, but didn’t resist, as Kili pulled him away from the Barrow Wight.

Together the boys raced out of the burial chamber into a dark and narrow hall. Without the greenish glow, the hall was black as pitch like the deep of a cave. Luckily, Dwarf vision saw well in the lightless dark and the youths continued their sprint.

Behind them, the scuttling of the Barrow Wight followed them. Its mournful song hissed and whispered down the black passage. The spell’s tendrils of gloom threatened to slow them down, but Kili, aware of how pale and cold his brother’s hand was, knew Fili would be doomed if they faltered. 

The passage wasn’t long, and turned unexpectedly with another burial chamber to the left. It too was open with green mists, and Kili dared not look, aware there was scraping coming from inside.

Beside him, Fili gave a gasp, and his hand tightened around the young dwarf’s. “By Mahal, that monster will bring down all those cursed here just to bring us back!”

“Best not to look or think, brother!” Kili puffed, rounding another short corner into an intersection. They were forced to stop, and Kili winced at the dragging of dead feet behind them. The unholy green mists leaked into the hall, touching his bare legs and feet.

“Which way now?” Fili asked leaning over, and put his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily. “This cursed place is a maze.”

“Why do men make death so complicated?” Kili asked looking down both passages. He felt no fresh air on his face, only the oppressive sent of death in either direction. More tombs, more dead waiting for them….

Yet one way led to the door out and the other led to a dead end. 

“Young princelings, your beds await you.” A ghostly voice called from behind. 

Chilled to the bone, Kili shivered, grabbing his brother’s hand once again. Fili’s features were distant, as if lost once more. “Don’t listen, his voice is poison.”

“No, no, not that,” Fili replied. “I hear a voice, a warm cheery voice, singing. “ The older boy yanked at his younger brother’s hands and pulled him down the left passage. “This way!”

Sure enough, Kili now heard it too. The same pleasant voice that awoke him from his dream. It was growing stronger as they ran. What it was, Kili was unsure, but it was not foul in nature and gave him the hope and will to keep running.

The air was stale and stifling, and smelled earth, rot and mold, and Kili’s legs ached as they sprinted down another corridor. If felt like they ran forever, until breeze touched his cheeks and the stench of death was replaced by the fresh sent grass and brush. 

Fili’s grip strengthened and Kili’s sped up his pace. They turned the corner, and even though blackness greeted them, Kili saw the thin outline of a doorway, and smelled the freshness of a field after a rain. 

Running harder, both boys raced out of the doorway and into a wet grass-covered knoll.

On a hill across from them, Kili caught a glimpse of a woman with long golden curls, in a flowing dress; a steady brilliant glow emanated from her as she walked, singing, and Kili was certain she was a spirit, maybe a nature spirit of some kind. Yet he couldn’t be sure, he had never seen one until then. Slowly the woman walked down the hill away from them, singing in a clear chiming voice.

No sooner had her head disappeared than out of the entrance of the barrow the king Barrow Wight stepped out followed by two others. 

There was a shout, and a small stocky figure leapt from above the barrow’s entrance, and in front of the wights. A sword flashed, and the King’s head was hewed from its shoulders. It unceremoniously crashed to the ground with its body. Its sword flipped from its fingers and kerplunked in a muddy puddle near by.

Kili recognized that familiar black mohawk hair and sturdy gruff features. Mister Dwalin had come to their rescue.

The other wights stepped into the fray their swords swirling in for the kill, but Dwalin’s might met each blow with a well-parried dodge. He spun, cleaved up and another one fell, mummified body bisected. 

Distracted, Kili’s foot snagged and twisted in a rabbit hole and the dwarf fell backwards into the wet mud. The boy gave a cry as his vision blurred and agony swept his trapped leg.

Fili crashed down along side of him, splattering mud and water all over their white garments. “Kili!” The older boy called out, scrambling to Kili’s side. Water dripped from his hair down on to his face as he gently wrapped his fingers around Kili’s trapped leg, and eased it out of the hole.

Tensing, Kili gritted his teeth. Anguish washed over him, followed by brilliant rainbow of colored spots. The edges of his vision darkened, and the teenager swooned. Only a thin awareness of Fili’s hand on his kept him from completely losing his wits. “Stay with me, Kili…”

 

How could they come so far, to only be stopped by his clumsiness? Kili squeezed his brother’s hand. “I’m sorry brother…. I don’t think I can walk right now.”

The older boy went to speak, when Dwalin’s voice cut though the darkness. “Remove the accursed burial garb and jewels! They are bound to it!”

Quickly, both boys began to strip, off went the golden belts, crowns and chains, than the white robes, and hair clasps. 

The task didn’t require Kili to move, and he felt his ankle throb a little. He was all too eager to remove the smell of the grave from him. Treasure they were, but not worth the cost to his souls if the monsters traced them too it.

Once stripped, Fili took the bundles of kingly jewels and tossed them as far away from them as he could. 

A growl from Dwalin drew Kili’s attention. The last barrow wight was down, but another departed the barrow. However, to his surprise, Mister Dwalin disengaged and ran towards them. Horror reflected in the big dwarf’s features. “Get to your feet, lads, and run or we’ll have the entire barrow to fight!”

With Fili’s arm around his waist, Kili painfully hobbled to one foot; his bad ankle made it impossible to put weight on it, but Fili kept him from falling until Mister Dwalin hauled Kili up into his strong arms and started to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love their relationship. They're different sides of the same coin. I wanted to take Kili into a different direction than most fannon. He's kind of ADHD rather than slow of mind. He's impulsive, creative, sensitive, he can obsess over problems but is quick to be distracted and quick to act. He shows his feelings when Fili hides them and thinks over everything he does. I don't see Fili as smarter, just more patient with learning, and more capable of focusing. Where Kili sleeps during lessons, Fili is studious and out to please.They are different sides of the same coin and are lost without each other.
> 
> I did find a beta, and I will replace bits with edited copies for folks when they are finished.
> 
> I realized when writing the series how important Kili's dream really is. Should I make this longer? The story was meant to be short, and strongly based on sequences in the Fellowship of the ring, which was forgotten in the movie. 
> 
> I am open to suggestions here.


	5. The failings of Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescued by Dwalin the boys realize shame is not something easily let go.

Kili wasn’t sure how long they bounded though the landscape, but it was dawn before they stopped and they were well across the road by the time Dwalin stopped to catch their breath. Fili stumbled to a stop at his side, holding his ribs as he panted. 

It was only then Kili realized how chilled he was. Naked and curled up, the only heat he felt was from Dwalin’s body. He shivered and wondered how Fili felt, the older boy was just as naked as he was. 

The sun rose over the hills, spreading pinks and oranges across the grasslands. Its light kissed the wildflower faces, opening them to the clouds. A gentle breeze ushered in the morning, chasing away the dampness and ghosts of the night. For the first time in hours, Kili felt safe. 

“I’m tired,” Fili whispered. He straightened and looked hopefully at Dwalin. “But I am willing to walk back to the camp, I do not want to be in spitting distance of those horrible downs. “

“That won’t be necessary,” said Dwalin as he lowered Kili to the ground. “You’ll have to walk the rest of the way to my camp, Kili, it’s not far.” The dwarven warrior rubbed his arms and stretched his cramped muscles.

The boy’s ankle still smarted, and he could not put weight on it, but he was able to wrap an arm about his brother’s shoulders to stand. “I can make it,” Kili said bravely. Although he wasn’t feeling very brave, he was ashamed. 

By the frown of Fili’s face, Kili knew Fili felt the same way. Gently he squeezed Fili’s shoulder and smiled weakly. “We are alive at least.”

Fili said nothing. Kili swore he saw tears rimming the tweenager’s eyes but before he could offer more comfort, Dwalin started to walk. “This way.”

Fili drew Kili close and started to follow. “Thank you,” said Fili. His voice sounded gloomy. “They were strong.”

After walking a ways, Dwalin stopped in front of the remains of a camp. It was near several tall pines, and the earth was rocky, with little grass between trees and pine needles scattered about the ground. A small shelter with branches stood between the trees and the remains of a fire sat near the shelter. 

Dwalin must have camped there overnight. He looked over his shoulder with angry eyes. “Once you are rested, you will tell me how in Mahal’s name you two managed to camp out on a Barrow, after all my warnings.”

&@&$

Fili sat quietly wrapped in a blanket, sleepy gaze focused on the crackling flames of their fire. Across from him, Kili sat, back against a tree, snuggled in a blanket as well, and his injured ankle in Dwalin’s hands. “You’re lucky boy, it’s only sprained, but it’s a bad one, might be a bit before you go and challenge undead in their barrows again.”

The tone of sarcasm in Dwalin’s words made Fili wince. He watched his brother look up to Dwalin with a mixture of shame and relief. “We didn’t intend on being attacked by Barrow Wights, it was just a bit of bad luck.” 

Dwalin removed bandages from his pack and wrapped Kili’s ankle. “Then what were you doing being chased by them, then? More than bad luck I say, you were up to something foolhardy, no doubt. A warrior does not need to prove himself by taking on something he is not ready for.”

“But we weren’t, Mister Dwalin.” Fili defended. He felt a spark of anger penetrate his gloom, clutched his fingers into fists and glared at the older Dwarf. “We had no idea we were camping in a barrow mound. It was dark and we were tying to get out of the rain. It was a mistake.” 

An embarrassing mistake. Fili chewed his lip despondent. “Not that it really matters, I nearly got us both killed and failed to protect my brother.”

“But you did protect me!” Kil’s wide eyes filled with disbelief. “You found our way out and helped us to get away. I was the one who sprained his stupid ankle!”

“But I couldn’t fight them.” Fili insisted. The older boy sank back into his blankets and stared at the stony earth. Kili didn’t understand, because he was asleep at the time. He didn’t see Fili fail to fight the Wight. Grieved, Fili drew his knees up and hugged them. He’d been so scared that he’d just given up. How could he be a heir to the throne of Erebor if he was a coward? 

Dwalin watched the exchange in silence. His hard features softened some. “Raining, eh? That’s the about the time I realized you weren’t camped where I told you. Damn fog got you all turned around. Didn’t I warn you to camp well before dark?”

“You just said, keep an eye on the road.” Kili replied. “And we couldn’t see it at all when it started to rain.”

“I thought I was going to a safe spot, but I didn’t. Some scout I turned out to be.” Fili pressed his face into knees and clumsily wiped a tear from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mister Dwalin.”

Silent, Dwalin studied Fili. Fili wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but prepared himself for a harsh lecture. Moments passed, next to Fili, Kili blinked large tear-filled hopeless eyes at the warrior dwarf. “It’s not Fili’s fault… If it was anyone’s fault it was mine, I didn’t take what you said seriously. But Fili did. He kept on worrying about the road, everywhere we went. He also kept reminding me of time, but I ignored him.”

Mister Dwalin lifted a brow. “What made the two of you wait until it was dark to set camp?”

“We gathered many sticks and made many snares, more than I could count, and it be hundreds of snares!” Kili waved his arms around, to emphasize hundreds.

A faint smile creaked across Dwalin’s face. “That’s a lot of snares. Exaggerating a bit, aren’t we lad?”

“He’s exaggerating a lot,” admitted Fili, “but we did set lots of traps, got distracted doing it too. By the time I realized what time it was, well, it was too late to walk back without getting lost.”

“Lots of Conies then?” The remark caught both boys off guard. 

Fili blinked. He was downright confused now. “Lots.” 

What was the use of lots of conies if you were too frightened to go back to bring them home?

Dwalin must have suspected what he was thinking; the dwarf stood up and crossed over to Kili, and placed a rolled blanket down by his head, eased the teenager down, and signaled Fili to lie next to him. “Well, guess you learned your lesson the hard way. Not much more I can do to impress how dangerous it is when you’ve already experienced a worse punishment than I can dish out. And I suspect you’ll punish yourselves over it too and have more than your share of nightmares too.”

Relieved, Fili decided not to argue with Dwalin. Yes, he’d punish himself. How could he ever forget Kili’s terrified face screaming at him to wake up? Not to mention the Barrow Wight, the memory of the undead monster would follow him for the rest of his life. The older boy nudged close to Kili and laid his head on the bedroll. “I’m sorry.”

A breath shuddered from Dwalin’s chest. “I should have kept a closer eye on you, boy, this isn’t entirely your fault. I have some blame here too. I’m supposed to make sure your safe. Now, enough of the blame game, get rest, we’ll discuss it later.”

“But you weren’t even there,” Fili protested. “I was in charge.”

“Enough.” Dwalin straightened the blankets around the two boys and sat back down by the fire. 

Even though it was morning, Fili was grateful for the fire. It made him think of the strange beautiful glowing woman and her song. Closing his eyes, Fili suddenly realized how tired he was. He ached for sleep, as if he’d been up for several days in a row. The ground felt comfortable, they were safe with Mister Dwalin, and soon they’d be home in the camp outside of Bree. Even his sorrow seemed far away as sleep made his mind wander. Relaxed against his brother’s back, Fili listened to Kili’s deep breaths. His younger brother had already dropped off to sleep. 

Tired as he was, Fili didn’t want to sleep; there was a part of him very much terrified of it. Sleeping was too close to what it felt like to be near a singing Barrow Wight. The youth tried to make his mind wander. He thought about rabbits and their traps, how many would they catch? A second of nausea reminded him how terrified he was to turn to the fields that they’d set the traps in. In fact, he never intended on going there again, even if Uncle Thorin threatened to beat him for being a coward. Those rabbits could rot as far as Fili was concerned.

Weary, Fili sighed, he felt sleep creeping up on him. His body was very heavy, and it became very difficult to stop his mind from wandering. A moment later, despite his efforts to avoid it, Fili fell into a deep fitful sleep.  
&%&%$

Fili slept most of the day away. Both physically exhausted and mentally drained, the youth didn’t have the strength to wake up any earlier than late afternoon. Hazy with a sleep-laden mind, Fili slowly cracked his eyes open to see Dwalin standing at the other side of their camp, looking at a blurry pile of something. The warrior was hunched, arms folded and Fili recognized that his right hand was scratching his beard. 

Wearily, Fili rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and lazily sat himself up against a tree. By the position of the sun in the sky, he deduced it was about two in the afternoon. “Mister Dwalin?” 

“Aye, you’re awake, laddie?” The grizzled dwarf looked over his shoulder and nodded to Fili. “We had a visitor while you were sleeping.”

“A visitor?” Fili came to his feet, and ignoring his nakedness padded over to the older dwarf. In front of him was a pile of large dead rabbits and quails. Puzzled, the boy rubbed his sleepy eyes once more, as if he were dreaming. “From our traps?”

“Aye, a golden-haired lass and her husband, dropped them by, said it would be a pity to waste them.” Dwalin explained. “Same lass that led me to you and Kili.”

Surprised, Fili rubbed the back of his head. Was it the same woman he and Kili had seen singing? It then occurred to him that Dwalin had never left. “How did you find us? And why? I thought we were alone?”

“No, of course not, just thought you were. If I left you unattended to get into trouble, your Uncle would take my head. I was camping here. I was watching you all the long,” Dwalin explained. He turned to Fili, apologetic. “I set out to find you when you didn’t show up at your assigned camping spot right before dark. Spent most of the night searching the moors for you, until that Lass showed up, told me you were in the barrows, so I followed her.”  
For a moment, Fili was certain he saw fear in Dwalin’s dark eyes. The thought of the Barrows bothered him too.

“She spoke to you?” Fili spotted his pack and a bundle of clothing near the pile of rabbits. He quickly picked them up and went though them. The clothes smelled fresh, like a field of flowers and were clean. “I thought she was a spirit. Kili and I heard her singing in the barrow. It woke us up.”

“Might have been.” Dwalin knelt down, accessing the pile. “There are stories, and she had something supernatural about her. I suppose there has to be good spirits around to balance out all the evil things out there.”

Fili nodded. “One could hope. But she was certainly beautiful, like a golden sunrise over a field of wildflowers and running streams.” He quickly pulled on his underclothing, breeches and tunic. 

Dwalin laughed. “Well we should count ourselves lucky then, lad. Not every day you get to see someone as fine as her.”

“No I guess not.” Fili dropped his pack on the ground next to Kili and sat down. The fire was gone, and Kili had claimed all the blankets for his own. The younger dwarf whispered in his sleep and twitched restlessly. He was still pale from the night before, and Fili swore there was fear etched across his brow. “What are we going to tell uncle?”

Dwalin frowned, “I’m thinking about it. Can’t hide anything from your mother, no use hiding it from Thorin, guess the truth is our only choice.” The dwarf crossed over to the camp, and sat down, arms folded. His harsh features became gentle. “Fili, I was scared to death for you. Thought I was going to lose both of you. The undead are not anything to trifle with.”

“And a warren of conies isn’t worth waking them up over?” Fili ventured. He still felt uneasy about what happened, and just thinking about it made him tremble. 

“Ultimately this was my responsibility. I chose this warren convinced we’d be far enough from the Barrows…” Dwalin shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Because you were looking at the ruins too?” Fili asked feeling a little better. “I thought the ruins were where the barrow downs started too, not that close to the warren.”

Dwalin reached out and patted Fili’s shoulder. His face filled with regret. “If anyone should say they are sorry, lad, it’s me.” 

Fili didn’t agree or disagree. They should have listened in the first place, but he said nothing. If Dwalin wanted to take responsibility for everything there would be no arguing him out of it. Instead Fili nudged the ground with the tip of his boot and thought about what happened the previous night. “What do Barrow Wights do? I tried to fight it, but I just gave up and couldn’t move. I think I wanted to go with it.” He shivered. 

Dwalin pulled out his pipe, filled it, tamped it down and lit it. “They cast magic on you, Fili, make you give up on life, then they drain your soul and kill your body. Not pleasant at all.”

The Wight’s song, Fili remembered it well, it made him weak, and glum. “I tried to fight it.”

“The fact that you tried says a lot, boy, most people when they encounter them lose that battle without a fight. Says something about you, doesn’t it?” Dwalin puffed out two rings and steadied his attention on the tween. “Once you fall under their spell, there is no waking up.”

What did it say about him? Fili wasn’t sure. He was dumb enough to camp on the Barrow Wight’s front stoop in the first place. “Says I’m too stupid to know when I’m beat?” 

“Says you’re gonna be a fine warrior sometime once you iron out all the kinks of youth, boy.” The older dwarf laughed. “Now, let’s wake that brother of yours and try to figure out a way to get all those conies back to camp.”

A fine warrior? Fili blinked; that was the last thing he thought he was, Kili was the one who protected him. He’d be a finer warrior. Not arguing with Dwalin was a wise idea. So instead he nodded, relieved the conies were in camp and not in the barrows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel sorry for Fili, poor thing will have to live with this for a while. I really should do more on it, but at the time I was writing this, I was worried about dwelling on too much angst. Both Fili and Kili are seriously shaken up by this.


	6. A Brothers Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dark of night, Fili and Kili discuss the events of the previous day.

The tent was dark, and Fili didn’t feel safe when it was dark. Even though he could hear the banter and laughter of the older dwarves outside by the pit fire, he couldn’t help but think of what else lay waiting in the night.

The youth turned over on his bedroll and looked across the tent to his younger brother laying beside the dying embers of a small fire. Kili blinked at him, tired eyes refusing to close as he lay curled up around his blankets. “Brother, are you still awake?”

“Yes,” Fili replied. He wasn’t feeling very well, he ached from the night before still, and his throat stung when he swallowed. According to Oin, the tribe healer, both he and Kili had caught colds from the night out in the barrows. The older dwarf rubbed his stuffed nose, annoyed. Maybe Mahal was punishing them for not being able to take better care of each other? 

“Do you think Mister Dwalin is still on watch?”

After explaining the events of the evening, Uncle Thorin and their mother decided it was best to put Dwalin on all-night watch for failing to have the proper oversight. All and all it could have been worse. Uncle Thorin was furious, as was their mother, but Dwalin’s brother Mister Balin insisted such an oversight was very possible since dwarves tended to keep to themselves and ignore the affairs of other folk living in an area. They only knew pieces of history, and mostly what concerned them, and had no way of knowing the reason why there were so many rabbits in the warren near the Downs was that NO one went there in the first place. 

The older dwarf’s logic worked, and Uncle Thorin admitted he made the same mistake when he approved of the venture in the first place.

Now after some warm coney stew and proper healing attention, the boys were bedded down in their tent. The tent itself was simple, with a fire pit in the center, woven rugs laid out around on the floor, bedding, and trunks for their belongings. Fili’s sword lay near to his bedroll, and Kili had a wooden sword for practices against his trunk on his side of the tent. Kili’s bow and quiver lay close to him though. At least Fili wasn’t alone in his unease. Neither of them liked the idea of bedding down without arms near by. Both also insisted on having a fire as well, but it had dwindled too much for Fili’s liking.

Kili sneezed. “You don’t think these colds are from the barrow wights? Balin said the people buried there died of plague.”

“According to Balin, spells don’t work like that.” Fili informed. Though the thought had crossed his mind. “But Oin said us being frightened and weak was normal, though. Said it will take time for us to be merry again.” He still hated having a cold.

The young dwarf across the room sat up and picked up a stick near the fire to stir it. “Do you keep imagining the King Wight will be there if you open your eyes? I hate being this scared. ”

Sitting up, Fili nodded. “I think if the Wights came here, they’d be in a lot of trouble, even if our kin are drunk on ale.”

Cheerful music started outside of the tent, and Fili smiled some. His mother’s and uncle’s fiddles played loudly with an accompaniment of flutes, recorders and spoons against pots and pans. Someone started to sing drunkenly, followed by more laughter. “They must have liked the stew.” Kili hugged his good leg. His injured one lay on his mat, splinted and, unmoving. 

“Must have.” Fili agreed. He wished he could have joined the older dwarves, this was his favorite part of the evening, but his heart wasn’t in it this night, and mother insisted they go to bed early. Finding his feet, Fili stood and walked just to the entrance of their tent. “I’ll get some wood for our fire.”

Outside a swirl of color greeted his gaze. His mother danced with unbound black hair swirling about her, and her beard glinting with golden clasps. In a whirl of colorful cloth other women danced as well, while the men sang and played instruments. 

Fili forced himself to look away and found some wood piled up next to their tent, which he gathered. “Mom is dancing.” He told Kili. “We’d be with her if we weren’t so miserable.”

A pout wrinkled Kili’s mouth into a frown and he exhaled. “Do you still feel bad about everything? Because you shouldn’t.” 

The wood clattered as Fili stacked it on to the fire and sat back on his bedroll. “I know what I shouldn’t feel, but I still do, yes. I am the oldest.”

“And I am one day to be your guard.” Kili snapped back. “We are both responsible for each other’s welfare in the end.” 

The words struck home and Fili looked away. Kili had a point, they both had expectations, and standards set for themselves because they had destinies filled with responsibilities. What happened the other night had hurt both their prides. “I didn’t think…”

“Yes, you did, you were just too busy feeling sorry for yourself to really listen to what I was saying.” 

So often Kili just said things in his defense he just stopped thinking about it. Fili was convinced the younger dwarf was just protecting him with his words, not actually feeling the same weight of responsibility. “So we both feel like failures and idiots as well as cowards.”

“About the size of it.” Kili agreed. “Except you can add in clumsy oaf because I sprained my ankle on top of it.”

“We’re a fine miserable lot aren’t we?” A weak smile split Fili’s face. 

“Misery loves company. Could be worse, we could be alone and miserable.”

Alone like Mister Dwalin, on watch by himself. Fili agreed and lain back on his bedroll and put his hands behind his head. Cold or not, he felt his heart lift some. “You did save me back there.” 

The campfire’s flames reflected in Kili’s haunted dark gaze. “The Golden maiden we saw, if it wasn’t for her, I never would have been able to keep fighting long enough to wake you up.”

Silence fell between them, and Fili considered Kili’s words. Both of them shared the same doubts and fears and owed their lives to this mysterious being. It was a difficult thought to swallow, especially having the responsibilities that they were destined to have. He rolled over to his side and stared at the fire as well. “Do you think it would have been the same if we were adult warriors?”

“Do you?”

“Mister Dwalin was impressed I was able to fight at all. Said I’d make a fine warrior when I grew up. So I guess that means you too.” The words really didn’t make him feel better because he didn’t believe them yet, but Dwalin did. 

“If Mister Dwalin said it, it must be right then.”

Fili nodded his head. “It will take time to believe it in our hearts though.”

“Lots of time.” Kili coughed in his hand and wiped his hand on his blankets. He settled back under them and curled up on his side. “Still afraid to close my eyes.”

“Just think of stew and Ma’s fiddle.” Fili himself tried to think of good things like music and food too. It helped him some. If it helped him, since Kili always liked to sing and think of food, it would help Kili too. 

To punctuate the pleasant thoughts, the sound of their mother’s laughter drifted into the room. Kili smiled, and his eyes closed. “She’ll be in here soon to check on us, won’t she?”

“We can at least pretend we are asleep, so she won’t have worry.” Yawning, Fili closed his eyes as well, and thought of cakes and the market place. A thin smile crossed his face. Maybe tomorrow someone would bring home of pastries and meat pies for them as a treat, it was one of the few good things about being sick. People tended to bring in gifts. A nice meat pie would be very tasty indeed. Mother wouldn’t object to it either because she’d want meat on their bones in order to regain their strength. Just the thought made him hungry. 

A faint snoring from Kili’s bed told him Kili lost the battle to sleep as soon as he closed his eyes. With luck the younger dwarf was dreaming of coney stew and playing the fiddle. 

A pleasant tune of Bofur’s recorder floated into the room. It was a fresh, sweet pleasant tune, like a cool summer’s breeze on a warm day. Fili automatically thought of accompanying it with his fiddle. He imagined the rhythmic strumming with his bow, and movements of his fingers on the frets of the instrument. Moments later he fell into a deep pleasant sleep, the horror of the night before in its place and his heart lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking I should add more, but I wasn't sure if I'd bore people with them struggling night after night sick and plagued with night terrors. But if folks think I should, I have some stuff in mind.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More then 65 years later, Kili is still haunted by the barrows and must face it before passing by them as they leave Hobbiton on their way to Erebor

Epilogue

The pale mummified hand stretched out, its ringed fingers traced a cold path of hopelessness down his cheek. Kili stared in horror. He could not move or even speak, only look into the soulless burning silver eyes of the undead king. 

With a barely held in scream on his trembling lips, the dwarf bolted up from his sleep. With a gasp, he bent over and knitted his hands though his bangs and dragged them down his face. 

He was shaking. Uneasily, he looked about the room; his uncle’s company of thirteen dwarves had spent the night in Hobbiton at the house of a supposed burglar, Bilbo Baggins. On the advice of a wizard, they sought his assistance on their journey to retake his uncle’s kingdom, Erebor. 

It was a momentary pause in what would be an adventure of a lifetime. Unfortunately, it was in the Shire, not far from Bree and the Barrow Downs.

It had been decades since he’d dreamt about the king.

Kili drew his legs up, and wrapped his arms about them. He was 62 years older now, though in dwarven years, barely in manhood. Still it was enough time to make the memory old, if not entirely forgotten.

But places like the Barrow Downs and its ghouls were almost never forgotten. Kili spent years of his childhood pretending the night terrors didn’t exist. Until one day, they stopped. So he put the memory in the back of his mind, and went on, trained and became an accomplished scout, swordsman, smith, and bowman. 

He looked across the fine light oak-wood paneled and off-white plastered parlor. The fire in the hearth no longer burned, and scattered about the arched gabled room, the bodies of dwarves, noble-blooded and commoner lay in bedrolls snoring blissfully on the floor.

Even Fili, who snored beside him, seemed contented in his sleep. They had not discussed the matter for years. Perhaps the older dwarf wasn’t bothered by the Barrows anymore. 

A finished wood table and matching sturdy chairs were pushed up against a round-paned window and stacked with packs and supplies for their long trip. Not uncomfortable for a group of wandering dwarves, absolutely royal for two throneless princes and their King-to-be Uncle. Outside of their home in the Blue Mountains, Kili was not used to such finery. The dwarves of Erebor lived simply during his lifetime. 

There would be no more sleeping for him for the rest of the night. So Kili packed up his sleeping roll and stowed it with the rest of his gear. He slowly navigated himself around the sea of bodies until he made it to the freshly painted, forest-green front door of the hobbit hole.

After another brief look to make sure he hadn’t disturbed anyone, Kili stepped out of the hole and into the night air. There he stepped down the flagstone stair and settled himself on a bench near a closed picket gate. 

The night air was cool, but pleasant; he could tell by the faint pinking of the horizon that morning would be upon them in no time. Their company would, with or without hobbit, start out, and by afternoon, they’d pass the Barrow Downs on the main road. 

Hobbiton was peaceful, with rolling hills, and round holes built into the earth. Around several dwellings were wildflower gardens and white picket fences. The farmland stretched as far as the eye could see, and a large pond sat in the middle of town, just outside of the market place. Cobblestone roads made paths around the town, making it easy for residents to move their produce to market. 

Nothing about Hobbiton even alluded to the real world outside of its borders. It was quiet, peaceful and pleasant. Its people were innocent and uninvolved with the affairs of men, dwarves or elves, and completely content with keeping it that way.

Kili had no doubt very few of them even heard of the Barrow Downs. Hobbits almost never strayed from Hobbiton and if they did, they always stuck to the roads.

The dwarf stretched his legs and leaned back against the wooden bench. He wondered if the King still existed at the Downs. Could undead survive hewing of the head from the neck? It was an odd thought, but he knew almost nothing about Barrow Wights, even now as a young adult. 

“You’re up early,” said a voice from behind. It was soft, yet firm and commanding.

Kili glanced over to see his uncle’s blue eyes, and dark raven, silver-streaked hair. The older Dwarf, stepped down the stairwell, and seated himself beside him. “All the homes here look alike, damned place is like a maze….”

“Was that why you were late?” Kili asked remembering how his Uncle arrived at the hobbit hole well after supper. 

Thorin ignored the question and just continued. “I passed the Barrow Downs on the way here. Hasn’t changed. Filled with rabbits, the field across from it is brimming with them now too. Suspect the Breeland folk are still too terrified to go there.”

There were times his uncle just damn outright scared him. Kili blinked and studied Thorin’s stern hawklike features. How in Mahal’s name did he know what was bothering him? The younger Dwarf went to ask, when Thorin stayed his words.

“We haven’t been this way since you were a boy, of course I know what is bothering you. Bothers Fili too, he just don’t show it.” 

Well, that explained it. Kili drifted his gaze to the sky and the fading stars. “I trust you have a better camping spot in mind for tonight?”

A thin smile crossed Thorin’s face. “You mean the fact we have a Wizard capable of killing hundreds of dragons does not inspire you to face down the dead once more?”

“Not a hundred wizards at my side would make me that foolish,” Kili replied. “I do hope you do not think I am a coward for it.”

“Coward? One does not trifle with ghosts and the wicked undead, not unless you haven’t a choice and a plan. I intend on being far from the Barrow Downs by evening, so you do not need to worry about those here thinking you are a coward.” 

Still not satisfied, Kili suspiciously eyed his uncle. “Do you think I am a coward?” 

Thorin studied him with his cold blue gaze. Kili shifted uneasily under his uncle’s scrutiny. His uncle rarely praised him, when he was younger there was that rare occasion, like the bear he killed, but other than that, he felt as if he could never please the man. “I think you have a great deal to learn, and this fear you have of the Barrow must someday be conquered, for there may come a time you will encounter greater evils than barrow wights.”  
Like the dragon. Kili leaned his elbows into his knees and pressed his face into his palms. Normally he’d argue with his uncle, but Thorin was right. “How?” was all Kili could muster. 

The question appeared to catch Thorin off guard because he looked at the boy with perplexed brow raised. “How? Only you can answer that, it haunts your dreams, not mine.”

“If it haunted your dreams, what would you do?” Kili met his uncle’s gaze and spoke firmly. 

“Your brother asked me the same question.” Thorin observed. 

“And did you answer it?”

“We are going to Erebor, are we not?” The reply surprised Kili. He hadn’t expected Uncle Thorin to be frightened of anything, especially the Dragon. As far as he knew, his uncle hated the beast, not feared it. 

“It is not….”

“No, it is not the same, but at the time, for me it was exactly the same. A unstoppable force that stole everything from me, something I could not fight, something I could only run from.” Thorin stood up and clasped Kili’s shoulder with one of his hand. “Learn from what happened to you, Kili, and use that as your weapon. It is time to move on.” His hand slipped away, and the old Dwarf, the King Under the Mountain left the young prince to himself and sunset.  
*&*&

The small company of dwarves were mounted and ready to go shortly after sunrise and surprising to all, the Hobbit joined them.

Kili wasn’t sure what to make of the Hobbit. He was smaller than they were, with a head of bushy redbrown hair and large furry feet. Their Wizard, Gandolf, claimed hobbits were capable of being very light on their feet, which meant this one would an excellent burglar: even though said Hobbit had no experience to speak of. Kili wasn’t sure of the logic, but Gandolf was a wizard so, he trusted him by default. 

Bilbo Baggins rode ahead of Fili and him and appeared to be more absorbed with staying on his little shaggy chestnut pony than them. 

The other dwarves road ahead with Gandolf. Thorin lead the pack proudly astride his black pony. They were a rag tag bunch, Kili thought; a miner, a toymaker, gentry in fine red clothing, a rotund cook, a freckled scribe with orange hair and a bowl cut, a roughen with a questionable background, a proud red haired and impressively bearded statesmen, and a hand full of warriors. Two to be specific, Dwalin and Balin, Balian, was the kindly gray haired advisor to Thorin and tutor who used to buy the boys any sweet they begged for in the market place. He was also, Dwalin’s older brother.

Maybe the hobbit fit right in. Even if did look like a grocer, he’d just add to the colorful and motley crew Uncle Thorin gathered to take back their homeland.

Kili exhaled and wondered how they’d kill a dragon and retake Erebor the way they were. Balin and uncle Thorin had a plan, but Kili wasn’t a strategist. He was a scout. To make matters worse, his uncle still hotly debated his presence. In the end, Kili was there only because Fili, who was of age, insisted the two of them would not be separated. 

For several hours they rode along rolling green hills and crop filled farmland until the road reached a dense dark forest. Luckily the road skirted around it, rather than through it. The only thing that hampered them, were the insects buzzing around in the shade. 

The forest itself was ominous. It was oppressively dark, and Kili could not see very far between the leafy brush, moss and thick ancient oaks. Vines and leaves were intertwined with all sorts of branches blocking the way in. The trees themselves swayed and their leaves whispered, as if in a soft wind, but Kili could feel none. 

There was something malevolent about the place and reminded Kili of the Barrow Downs. “Old Forest isn’t it?” He asked.

The Dwarf glanced to his brother, ridding beside him. 

“Yes, it’s haunted too. Gather you don’t want to go in.” Fili hadn’t changed much from childhood, though he had a perfectly sculpted beard, braided with all the finery of the line of Durin, and his gold mane of hair was long and thick. He wore a handsome fine leather coat, with a fur lining, and a new hooded tunic with brown pants and buckled leather boots. To Kili, Fili looked like a true Dwarf prince.

“Certainly not. I’m a dwarf after all, forests are all fine and good but these ancient ones are for the elves.” As a young adult, Kili lacked a true beard. He had scruff instead and was taller than his brother. Slender still, he failed to have the thicker build of his ancestors but very thick raven hair clasped back behind his head. At least folk no longer confused him with human child anymore. Instead, they mistook him for a human teenager. 

Bofur always told him it was better than being confused with an elf.

It was still just as embarrassing. 

Like Fili, Kili’s coat was made of leather, though gray with matching fur lining it rather than light brown. Kili liked leather. It held together better than most clothing. His mother made his blue hooded tunic and matching long vest. She used expensive wool, silk thread for its needlepoint embroidery. She insisted he and Fili looked like princes for once in their lives.

Kili of course liked his boots the best; they were soft dark leather and very comfortable. They also were durable. A young dwarf with the pretense to making a mess of himself needed tough clothing. 

“Keep an eye on the Hobbit.” Fili teased from beside him. “He just might fall off.”

Repressing a snicker, Kili nodded, grateful for anything to focus on other than the passing landscape. “We’ll just pick him up and plop him back onto old Myrtle again that’s all.”

The old forest doesn’t like folk much.” Bilbo said from his horse. “They say it tries to mislead travelers who wander in.”

“Do not fear Master Hobbit! We will not wander in!” Kili and Fili said at the same time. Kili smirked and patted his brown pony, Mindi on the flank and scratched her behind the ears. “No one is going to make you go into the deep dark scary forest, girl, I promise.” The pony responded by bobbing her head and wiggling her ears approvingly.

Uneasily, Bilbo returned his attention to his pony. “My people avoid the old forest, they say the trees talk. When I visited Buckland, I’d hear it now and then at the Bonfire Glade. All sorts of angry breezy sounding hissing at night. The forest will eat you whole.” The hobbit shook his head, as if he frightened himself.

“I’m sure there are worse places.” Fili replied. 

“I’m sure there are. Which is why we hobbit don’t travel very far. That’s for the bigger folk.” Bilbo gave a short nervous laugh. “Yet here I am, on an adventure.”

Both Kili and Fili lifted their brows at his words. “I beg your pardon, but not all folk who are little avoid adventure. It’s good for the soul.” Kili informed confidently. Not that he thought he was little, for a Dwarf he was very tall.

“Beg your pardon, Breelanders, men, dwarves and elves, fancy adventure, and as far are we hobbits are concerned even dwarves are big, you stand a good head taller than most of my people.” 

“Point taken, and you are forgiven.” Fili smiled good naturedly. 

“Don’t worry Master Hobbit, you are in good hands with us.” Since he wasn’t a warrior and only a burger, Kili figured it was just natural to make sure the hobbit arrived in Erebor in one piece. “Until that is, you meet the dragon. Than we are in good faith in your hands.”

The face of the hobbit became white as a sheet, and Kili couldn’t help but be amused. Not that it was a laughing matter. If Bilbo was too frightened of Smaug how would they reclaim their kingdom? However, the very fact Balin hired a burglar who rarely strayed out of his hole, and had no thieving experience to help them steal their gold from a dragon was laughable. It was completely absurd

“Your faith in me is humbling.” The hobbit responded with a hint of sarcasm.

Kili noted it, and decided it wasn’t wise to bait the hobbit. He didn’t seem to have a sense of humor.  
*&*  
They rode for a few hours until late afternoon, and when the forest started to thin into hill country Kili started to feel anxious. The Barrow Downs would soon be in sight. To make matters worse, they would be riding by the heart of the Barrows. Not skimming the edge like when he was a boy.

Even though the sun was high, Kili found his palms sweating, and his hands shaking from fear. The Barrow Wights weren’t active in the day but, he still feared the King would seek him out. 

“Oh dear, I’ve heard stories about this place.” Bilbo said glancing back to the Dwarves. “ It used to be a burial site for men, a long time ago. Never thought I’d travel this far, or even see it. Not that I’d want too. Only fools and idiots would want to stir up ghosts and other foul sorts.”

Idiots like them, and over rabbits too. Kili peered down at the dirt and stone road. It was once a cow path used for travel between the Shire and Breeland. Over the centuries it became well traveled and was hard and smooth with very few stones or rocks.

Across from him, Fili tried to give a reassuring smile. “I look forward to getting past his dreary landscape too.”

Ridding a bit further down the road, Kili now saw huge megalith stones on top of some of the hills. Some of the formations were in circles with like size stones around them and others were surrounded by smaller pointed stones half their size or smaller. What they thought were ruins of buildings were actually burial monuments. With a mixture of horror and fascination, Kili marveled at the structures with admiration. He wondered what purpose they served. Were they giant sundials or calendars marking the seasons and months? 

A low cloud of haze drifted between hills and the near marble tombs built into the hillsides. A thin greenish veil of light stirred around some of the open tomb entrances. Kili’s stomach churned with nausea. The memory of the voices with in the mists suddenly seemed just like yesterday.

“How could something so terrible be so beautiful?” Fili asked in a hushed voice. 

“The men that built this place understood the beauty of stone.” Kili answered back. “The Wights came after.” Kili kept his eyes on the mounds as they rode. There was no sign of barrow wights, just mist and tombs as far as they eye could see. “It is a different place in the day.”

“I still would not venture inside.” Fili’s somber features did not hide the fear etched on his bow. “You talked to uncle.”

“Yes, he prepared me for this.” The discussion with Thorin helped some, and even got Kili to thinking about his experience in the Barrows. He sighed, and absently ran a hand along the flank of his pony. “Remember the story Bofur told us about Thingol and the Dwarves.”

“The one about how pride and greed drove our kin to steal Nauglimir from the Elves and died for it. Yes, a tragic lesson.” 

“He told it to us because we are often prideful. And I was thinking of what Uncle Thorin told me.”

“About learning from what happened?” Curious, Fili cocked his head. “I can not fathom how you link Bofur’s story about the Nauglamír with running away naked and terrified from the undead.” 

“We were prideful. Or at least I was. I boasted about not being scared, and I was proud of what I could do. I didn’t think of what I couldn’t do or why I shouldn’t do it. “

“You make many of the same mistakes today.”

Kili rolled his eyes. There were rare times where Fili just couldn’t follow his stream of thought. “As do you. The point is we need to be more humble and consider the consequences of our actions. We should never let greed get the best of us. Setting traps until it was too late brought on the circumstances for us to get attacked by the Barrow Wights. Just like greed got the Dwarves that stole Nauglamir and it’s Silmiral killed.” Proud of his analogy, Kili sat straighter in his saddle and watched his brother’s face. 

“And that is what you think we’ve learned?” Fili offered a half smile. “Yes, now that you point it out I can see the comparison, but what good does it do in facing our fears of this place?”

It was a moral revelation rather than a resolution to their problem. “It’s all about greed and our weakness brother. Undead like Barrow Wights feed on our failings and emphasize our fears. To face such things, we must face these weakness in our own hearts. Uncle Thorin said we needed to learn something from it, not run from it. He didn’t say what we needed to learn.”

Twin blond brows rose and Fili started to laugh. “So, once we face these things about our selves, we do what?”

“Free as many souls trapped here as we can by destroying what they are bound too.” Kili replied matter of fact. 

Surprise widened Fili’s blue eyes, and then faded into consideration. “And how do we do that?”

“By destroying the thing they are bound too. The treasure they are buried with or in.” Kili thought about this a great deal. Dwalin claimed they’d be followed if they kept the treasure, so magic bonded the Wights to it. The rest was a simple deduction. “We will face this place brother, and we will defeat the King. After we retake Erebor of course.”

“Of course. It’s a bit ambitious little brother, but I understand your logic.” The older dwarf’s attention turned to the barrow mounds in silence. 

Fili rode that way for some time, leaving Kili to his own thoughts. He wondered if the older dwarf was mulling over what he had said, or just thought he was insane for even suggesting it. Kili puffed out at his bangs, so the hair flopped out of his eyes. All in all, returning to the downs to attack an undead king was an insane proposition. Especially since there were: many, many, more Barrow Wights. The entire landscape of the Barrow Downs was covered in tombs, likely all of them home to one or more Barrow Wight. 

The young dwarf repressed a shiver. 

“You do know this plan of yours is insane.” Fili finally said. “There are hundreds of tombs here. They’ve had a good two ages to populate the place. Take out one, we could have an entire grave yard of those fiends out to get us.”

Kili shrugged. “Uncle Thorin took a hundred years before he got the gumption to go after Smaug. We have time to consider. It is a thought brother, and better than being frightened, is it not?”

Though Kili never intended on taking on such an insane task the thinking about it helped him to realize that perhaps such things could be faced in the future. It lifted some of the weight and fear from his thoughts.

“Point made,” said Fili. There was a flicker of relief in his blue gaze. “And thinking on it. It gives me hope that if we do run into such things in the future, there is a way to win.”

“And I am no longer shaking.” Kili lifted a hand to show his brother. He wasn’t sure when the shaking stopped, but he was relieved. His mind had found peace with the night they meet the Barrow Wight. “I am frightened with wisdom, and not terrified like a child. For now, this is only a place, one to tread near carefully.” 

“As am I, brother. Now, all this talking has made us stray from Master Hobbit, who is looking even more terrified of his pony. Perhaps we should go and entertain him with ghost stories?” 

Sure enough, they had slowed down enough to talk to give ample space between them and the company. Poor Bilbo struggled to coerce his pony to catch up with the others without going faster than a slow walk. “I am up for the task, if you are brother.” Kili replied with a mischievous smirk. “But we will say nothing of pony’s for I fear we will never get him on one again if we do so.”

With a nod in agreement Fili spurred his pony into a trot. Kili hesitated, and offered a straying glance to the Barrows once more. It seemed the rabbits avoided the Barrows themselves, wisely. The young Dwarf, gave a slight smile. He wondered if they had annoyed the Wights with their escape. He certainly hopped so. 

A gentle nudge in Mindy’s shoulder encouraged the pony to speed up into a trot. It was time to move pass the Barrow Downs and get on with life. They had a Kingdom to rescue from a dragon and an adventure of a lifetime ahead of them.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it, though there is a sequel I haven't had it beta read though, so I don't know when I will be able to post it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, any thoughts, or ideas would be appreciated. I'm working on sequels. This story has led to an entire AU series.


End file.
